Yemen’s afternoon high

Walk down any major street in Yemen in the afternoon or evening, and you’ll see men with bulging cheeks, chewing qat leaves; their constituents, cathinone and cathine, produce a high. Qat — or Catha edulis — is cultivated in the Horn of Africa as well. But in Yemen, buffeted by fierce government-tribal clashes in the north, renewed secessionist strength in the south and dwindling oil revenues, the qat shrub is just about holding the Arab world’s poorest country together.

Qat chewing occurs almost everywhere in Yemen, except tourist hotels (one in Aden greets visitors with a sign, “Guns and qat are not allowed”). Many private homes have a comfortable, well-ventilated room, or diwan, set aside for the purpose. But it is at street level that the pervasiveness and tempo of the activity can best be appreciated, in the qat markets, or drifting amid those chilling out on it or consuming it during their workday as a taxi driver or an attendant for kids’ camel rides at a park, or just shopping for fruit and vegetables.

If it is a ritualised activity, it is a seamless one, like taking coffee after a meal is for a westerner.

Partaking of this natural amphetamine is not prohibited in the Qur’an, and the jury remains out on whether it is addictive or harmful. Accepted in Yemen, it is not in other Arab countries; and while legal in the UK and much of Europe, it is banned in France, Norway, Sweden, the US and Canada.

Icing on the cake

Qat is a medium for male socialisation; women chew it as well, although separate from men. Its proponents argue that it helps promulgate business deals, but there is an undeniable social pressure to join in its consumption. Not to do so gets you called unsocial. Its intake is each day’s main boredom-busting activity.

In November 2008, the Yemen Observer revealed that qat sales had tripled on the night the last US presidential results were shown live on TV. According to one dealer: “After I had finished selling the daily quantity of qat at 3pm, I found more people searching for it so I phoned a qat farmer to send me another shipment.”

The average Yemeni spends one quarter to one third of his income on qat. Three quarters of the population devote four to six hours daily to buying and chewing the leaves, consumed in the later afternoon after the day’s main meal. Although qat has no nutritional value, a third of Yemen’s agricultural land — double the acreage of a decade ago — is devoted to it. In the 1960s Yemen was flooded with cheap foreign grain, rendering many traditional crops unprofitable. Qat is now Yemen’s largest crop in cash value and employs, directly or indirectly, hundreds of thousands of people. The trade is a major contributor to tax revenue, and the government supports it through customs exemptions, loans and diesel subsidies. But cultivation of the water-hungry plant is exacerbating a grave water crisis (Yemen lacks the financial means to invest heavily in desalination facilities), and encourages corruption at all levels. It is illegal to import qat, and the powerful growers of the qat mafia have reportedly threatened to shoot down any planes flying in stocks from abroad.

Gaze across any vista and you’ll see the pale green trees of qat terraces. Whole communities pick the branches, though women generally take the lead. Qat runners then haul most of the crop in to cities on trucks. There it might be sold directly from the trucks, or the muqawwat (qat retailers) unload it onto the ground, where they sort and wrap it. Sometimes it’s formally weighed but mostly it’s gathered together in guesstimates. You will occasionally see a woman or a child selling it.

There are many kinds of qat, and many levels of quality, with seasonal variations. Some regions are known for their green shoots with long succulent tips. So the haggling over price can be intense, though tea might be served to civilise the process. But quickly, since Qat has a shelf life of only 24-48 hours.

Sana’a, the capital, has more qat markets than any other Yemeni city (though business is booming in Aden). In the central souq, there are at least three markets. On the northern rim of the city, there’s a more formal, or upscale, sector of qat dealers who operate from shops or small stalls. Anyone visiting there midday finds the atmosphere more easy-going than the souq. But tensions accumulate as the afternoon comes on, when fears mount among buyers that the best of the lot may have already been sold.

Like marijuana, the chewing of qat initially amplifies emotions and conversations can run wild. There is a feeling of camaraderie and shared experience. Then a quieter, more mellow contentedness sets in. It dampens the appetite and can cause insomnia, leaving some users a bit unsteady on their feet.

Medical studies have shown that chewing qat is a risk factor for the development of oral cancers. Qat use has also been associated with gastro-intestinal disturbances, increased risk of liver disease and cardiovascular effects, as well as making women vulnerable to complications in pregnancy and childbirth. There are reports of people becoming psychotic, but few controlled studies have been done. Some results seem contradictory: men may report experiencing either an increase, or a decrease, in libido.

Qat’s detractors claim loudest that it is responsible for a husband or father’s lack of input into (or alienation from) family life and stressing the family budget. Its proponents (most people and from all walks of life) maintain that qat use increases energy levels, self-esteem and mental acuity.

There is no dispute that the trade has buttressed Yemen’s economy. It has brought money to remote villages, made them more accessible and stabilised rural-to-urban migration. The commerce doesn’t stop at Yemen’s borders. Recent surveys suggest that Yemenis (and Somalis and Ethiopians) living abroad consume qat just as they would at home, given the opportunity.

‘London’s new drug’

The UK is one case, though government agencies are not forthcoming on statistics. Interpreting Customs and Excise figures released several years ago, more than seven tons of qat are imported each week via Heathrow airport, coming in twice-weekly shipments in the cargo holds of passenger aircraft from Sana’a and Kenya. (African qat is sold in bunches of twigs with soft, chewable stems, unlike the leafy Yemeni variety.) Most of it is sold in London (in qat cafés, or mafreshi), and some is distributed to Birmingham and Manchester. But London is also a key trans-shipment point, and a substantial portion is redirected to New York for illegal sale in the US. In the UK the plant retails at £3-5 for a 250g bunch, whereas in the US it can sell for 15 times that price.

Despite its legal status in the UK, the drug has made little way in the wider community, though sometimes the press touts it. In September, a cover story in Time Out London called qat “London’s NEW drug”. Most westerners can’t get beyond the bitter taste, and have only aching jaws for their attempt at consumption.

In 2006 the UK Home Office had accepted the recommendations of an independent body of experts that called for qat to remain an uncontrolled substance, arguing that it caused only nominal harm. A Home Office spokesman said that qat usage in the UK “remains under close review... In the meantime the government is committed to tackling qat use through prevention, harm reduction and education”.

The still-unresolved issue is whether qat is a cause or a symptom of social and economic problems. With unemployment in Yemen at 40%, one can only hope that export profits trickle down. Foreign governments will likely weigh any potential qat ban within their borders against its impact on Yemen’s economy, and any geopolitical shift that could trigger.

Roger Gaess

Roger Gaess is a journalist and photographer based in London and New York

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Roger Gaess is a journalist and photographer based in London and New York